


Charity Events, Billionaire Playboys, and Other Stressful Things

by CaraLee



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adopted Fic, Gen, Jason straight-up kills a dude in chapter one, So disregard all MCU canon after New York, The Avengers Go to Gotham, The Avengers meet the Waynes, The complicated social dynamics of billionaires, They regret everything, This happens a few months after the first Avengers movie, Tony says 'I told you so a lot', there is some violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 11:25:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14471670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaraLee/pseuds/CaraLee
Summary: When some of the Avengers attend a charity event in Gotham Tony thinks the worst part will be having to deal with Bruce Wayne. But nothing ever stays simple in Gotham and the Wayne family is right at the middle of it all.





	Charity Events, Billionaire Playboys, and Other Stressful Things

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I adopted from Glimare on fanfiction.net a long time ago. It sort of fell onto the backburner as I focused on studying abroad and now graduating, but I'm finally coming back to it!  
> The first half of this chapter was written by Glimare, then edited and completed by myself.  
> (Also, I spent twenty minutes staring at the freakin' title bar in agony before I finally gave up and composed a title in the grand style of L. Burke's X-Men fics.)

Tony did not want to be there. Yes, it was a party. Yes, it was for a good cause. Yes, there were expensive toys everywhere. Yes, there were numerous hot women in the crowd. Yes, booze was available. All of that kept him there (and Pepper insisted). There were just a few, _tiny_ things he didn't like.

One, he was in Gotham. The place _sucked_.

Two, Captain Boy Scout of America was making him come so he was guaranteed to be unhappy on principle alone.

And three, Bruce Wayne was there.

"And why is that so repulsive?" Pepper Potts gave the appearance of hanging on his arm as she dragged him up the steps to Gotham’s Elizabeth Kane Memorial Art Museum to make nice with potential business partners and look good for the camera. Cap-sicle had Natasha on his own arm, bringing up the rear to make sure he didn't rabbit on them. Right then, Tony envied Bruce Banner's excuse to stay out of the limelight and the party scene, which was saying a lot. His girlfriend was less than amused by his reluctance. "Bruce Wayne is a well-respected business man whose company specializes in defensive military contracts, not guns or missiles. Then there's their medical division, their aerospace division, their computer sciences, their social welfare programs. He's all about helping people."

"Wayne's an entitled, know-it-all brat." The genius groaned as they passed through the doors "Has been since boarding school. And he was only there for like two years! And the next time we met, he had every other girl's number! Little rat bas-"

"There are other people here Tony," His best girl reminded him. "Important people who want to thank you guys for saving the world."

"Hm. Fun."

"Possible investors and partners too."

"If they want business, they can talk to you.” Tony whined. “Back home. In your office."

"Or we can make nice with people _here_ and see where that goes later."

"I thought you liked parties," Steve pointed out, smirking. _He_ didn't like them at all, but this was for a good cause. The money donated tonight would go to the families and businesses that were damaged in the Battle of New York. The Wayne Foundation was heading it and he had only heard good things about that organization: all above board, no questionable ties, (at least, no plausible ones, though there were plenty of accusations) and they specialized in helping victims of crimes, particularly orphans. If it weren't for all the good that was going to happen by them coming (Wayne promised to match the overall donations if the Avengers appeared) he wouldn't have come. If only they could have the charity happen without the party. "You sure have a reputation of being a party boy."

"That was before I got serious. Ooo! Tequila!" Without a second thought, Tony grabbed a shot off of a tray and took a swig. There was no way he was taking this sober. As soon as champagne crossed his path, he took two and handed one to Pepper. "And a bubbly for the lovely lady."

"Why thank you." Pepper smiled sweetly as she took it. "You still have to say hello to Mr. Wayne."

"No I don't."

"He's right over there." She pointed to one spotlighted area of the room. Two handsome young men, one of them clearly underage, followed a taller and more muscular man, each wearing tailored suits of similar style. All three had black hair of varying shades and different intensities of blue for eyes. They even had contrasting body types: big and buff, tall and lean, small and spry. It was only because they held themselves in a similar manner and dressed alike that anyone could tell they were together.

Well, that and the mishmash family was on the brochure. Same difference.

"So he is." Tony cringed at the sight, knowing the whole arrangement had to be for show. That first adoption made a notorious playboy look like a saint, and so did the second (who sadly 'died'. He wasn't convinced it wasn't a set up out of convenience. Sneaky bastard was probably sick of the street punk). The third one, well, that was clearly a business arrangement, _everyone_ knew it, Drake Industries had been neatly wrapped up and tucked away into Wayne Enterprises within _days_ of the paperwork going through. There were rumors of a fourth kid, apparently female, but he never saw her and didn’t know of anyone who had. The real kicker had been when Wayne acknowledged a bastard son to the public, about a year or two ago. Speaking of which, "Where's the kid?"

"You can't expect him to bring an eleven year old a party like this, can you?"

"Frankly, I don't think a teenager should be here either," Steve piped in, shaking his head. "Either way, we really do need to introduce ourselves."

"You can introduce yourselves all you want," the millionaire declared. "I'm going to liberate some more tequila."

"No," Pepper insisted, pinching his arm. "You're going to go over there, play nice for the press, guarantee a check, and then you can make a fool of yourself. But just yourself."

"How about we just skip to the last part and go home? Hmm? Everyone would be happier" He _really_ did not want to talk to Wayne. Last time they met, the man had nearly crushed his hand! Guy sure could hold a grudge.

"Tony-"

"It's going to happen anyway."

"Why don't you like Bruce Wayne?" Natasha asked what was in all their minds. Why all the resistance? It was rather odd, especially for him.

Looking away from them and towards the surrounding crowd, he told them in the simplest way possible. "We went to the same boarding school for a few years. We were not friends. And he's holding a grudge for some pretty childish pranks."

"Are we talking dye in his shampoo or replacing his shaving cream with cheese aerosol?"

Nearly all of them jumped at the new person's voice, shocked and amazed that someone had caught them off guard at all, let alone this guy. They all knew who he was, and mere minutes ago he was under a spotlight; Richard Grayson was giving them a thousand watt smile as he watched their faces. "'Cause I've done both and then some. Never got anything worse than washing every vehicle he owns as retaliation. Course he did prank me back a time or two."

"Really!" Steve couldn't help but smile back at this cheerful young man, ready and eager to meet them.

"Yep!"

"Sounds like the two of you had some fun together."

"Oh I bet," Tony mumbled in a small voice. Pepper gave him a sharp jab in the ribs along with a quick glare. He'd be paying for that later.

"Sure do!" Richard admitted, nearly glowing. "Course our pranks aren't near as bad as what Tim rolls out. Man that kid can be vicious."

"Say any more and I'll show Babs some of those pictures I took." They leapt almost as high as when Richard interrupted them. This new comer was the younger 'Wayne kid', Timothy Drake-Wayne. He had taken an active role in the company shortly after dropping out of high school, but had taken enough tests to earn his GED and an associate's degree, proving he was a responsible young man. The calm confidence in his eyes gained him respect quite quickly.

Tony had a feeling he might like this kid. Steve already liked Richard. Too bad Daddy Warbucks was an ass.

The older boy eyed the teen with some misgivings. "Which pictures are you talking about?"

"You know the ones," Timothy teased, smirking a bit.

His brother glared a bit. "Refresh my memory."

"June 7th, Metropolis."

Richard seemed to think about it for a moment before his eyes grew wide and a blush came to his face. "Thanks for the memories."

"Not a problem." He turned politely to the foursome and smiled pleasantly, offering his hand. "Allow us to introduce ourselves. I'm Timothy Wayne, and this is my brother, Richard Grayson."

"It’s a pleasure to meet you," Richard said with a wide smile as he took Steve's hand for a good shake. Tony took Timothy's and then Pepper. Natasha had the older boy's hand next, and he lingered flirtatiously. "I’m a huge fan of the Avengers."

"I bet," the superspy answered, automatically flirting back.

"And who may you be, lovely lady?" They could hear Timothy sigh in frustration as he finished handshakes around the circle without him. "An angel sent from above?"

"Natasha Romanov. Information specialist."

"Really!" Richard grinned at the wording, then started to tease. "So you're a master at interrogation?"

"Something like that."

"Maybe you'd like to interrogate me later."

"Anyway!" Timothy returned the conversation to more important matters, exchanging looks his brother. One could almost hear the younger telling him to knock it off. "It's really nice to meet you Ms. Romanov, you're the only one we didn't know by name. You of course are Steve Rogers," he said, looking over to the man with a smile. "The famous Captain America."

“Yes, I am." Steve kind of liked the other kid too. He seemed focused and honest, though something about the way he moved and smiled did seem to indicate that he had a dark side, it almost reminded Steve of Natasha.

Timothy smiled a bit more honestly as he spoke next. "My dad used to tell me stories of you from World War II. He really would have liked to meet you."

"And who is this lovely lady you are neglecting, Mr. Stark?" It was a clear joke, but it still hurt a bit when Richard passed him by for Pepper.

"Pepper Potts," she answered as she gave the young man her hand. "Acting CEO of Stark Industries."

"Oh! The brilliant mind of the company's business ventures!" This time he wasn't flirting. Much. "Have you met Lucius Fox? I think you two would get along really well."

"Not yet," she noted, smirking slightly, "but I plan on it. Is he really the one behind all of this?"

"Bruce is a pretty face and can do some of the work," Richard admitted, with Timothy backing him up with nods, "but we'd be sunk without Lucius, he makes the dreams possible. Timbo here's been learning all he can from the man, so that when both of them retire, he can do the work and I can be the face."

"And a scary face at that," Timothy remarked, clearly not liking the nickname. Everyone choked on a laugh while the man faked offence.

"Why Timmy! How can you say such a thing! I have a perfectly lovely face! Isn't that right, ladies?"

"Better than this lug," Pepper joked, nodding her head towards her boyfriend before taking a sip of her drink. Natasha nodded while Steve laughed a little.

"Hey!" They all laughed a little at his expense, only stopped when he pouted. "I think my face is very pretty. People even base their looks off mine."

"And if you dyed your hair bright green and wore a tutu they'd love you?" The jabbing joke from Steve nearly made Pepper spray out her drink. Where did the Captain get that image?

"That'd be a laugh," Timothy stated, somehow keeping his composure. He offered his hand once more to Tony, smiling politely. "It really is nice to meet you Mr. Stark. I've wanted to ask you a few questions about energy distribution in your armor."

"Oh, it's a trade secret," Tony insisted, though a little impressed by the question, which was more the type he got at science conventions than society events. "Next time you're in New York unsupervised, I'll show you the finer points."

"That won't be happening for a while." The voice that interrupted him from starting their tech talk had an authoritative ring to it, demanding everyone's attention. Bruce Wayne himself joined them, a polite yet firm look upon the group, particularly Timothy and Tony. "Not after last time."

"Last time?" Richard looked over to his brother who cringed. Everyone else was completely lost. "Did I miss something?"

"My apartment there blew up." The Avengers' eyes grew wide as the Waynes became exasperated.

"And you didn't tell me?" Richard sighed heavily, almost comically, before propping his fists on his hips, Steve thought he rather resembled Mrs. Barnes when she was scolding him and Bucky for getting into trouble too big for them again, a mix of worried mother and exasperated amusement. "What were you doing this time? Cooking or trying to find the cure for cancer?"

"Failed assassination attempt with a stinger missile."

"So cooking."

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Which is why you're not going anywhere for a while." Bruce folded his arms, glaring slightly at the two. "You need to take the threats on your life seriously. Both of you."

In perfect unison, his boys gave him an identical look, which the onlookers could only interpret as annoyance. The oldest spoke up first. "You're one to talk. Am I under lockdown too?"

"Debating it." His answer made the two roll their eyes as he turned towards their honored guests. He offered a hand first to Pepper. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Potts. I've only read good things about you."

"And I about you and Wayne Enterprises." She smiled pleasantly at him, impressed at how polite he was being. Tony wasn't, giving a grim smile before downing his drink in one gulp. "Though I can't say the same for your social life."

"Well not everyone is fortunate enough to have a constant companion like Anthony here." A wide, clearly fake smile grew on Wayne’s face as he offered his hand to the man in question. "You're a lucky man, Stark."

"Hm. Don't I know it." Tony ignored the outstretched hand and grabbed another glass, exchanging it with the empty glass. Five minutes in and he was on his third drink. "Nice to see you too, Brucie."

Wayne seemed to brush off the dismissal with a small grimace and turned towards Natasha. "And you would be the mystery woman of the Avengers. Should I ask for your name or will it take away from your allure?"

"Bruce..." Richard gave the man a small whine, making everyone wonder how old he really was. Timothy jostled him with his elbow and rolled his eyes with a long-suffering expression that spoke of many years enduring the elder’s immaturity.

"Don't mind him." The teenager frowned and looked out over the crowd. "If you will excuse me, I need to go find my date. She seems to have vanished."

"Everything alright?" Richard gave him a concerned look. Timothy shrugged.

"She most likely went out to the balcony to avoid a repeat of the incident with Mrs. Mansfield."

***

Since New York, Steve had met more rich, important people than he had in a comparable time even at the height of his fame in the forties. So far the Waynes, for all that they maintained a sense of distance, were much more personable than most.

Wayne winced at the mention of an “incident” and Grayson snorted a laugh that peaked Steve's curiosity. "She was my hero for that one." The young man flashed another brilliant grin. "It made all those years of listening to lectures on how good I have it so worth it."

Timothy hummed in acknowledgement, sounding very much like Tony when he was distracted by a project. He moved off, vanishing into the crowd, and Grayson winked at Natasha. "Timmy's girlfriend has strong opinions that some of the old money types don’t appreciate."

"They aren't dating at the moment." Wayne said with amusement and Grayson rolled his eyes.

"Not-girlfriend then." He offered his arm to Natasha. "My lady, would you allow me the honor of a dance."

Natasha gave Steve an amused look and swept off with the young man, leaving Steve with Wayne, Tony, and Pepper. The tension was practically tangible and Steve had to remind himself not to fidget. He compromised by standing at relaxed attention, ready to intervene if Tony tried to make too big an ass of himself. He understood the billionaire’s dislike of these events, personally, they reminded him of his “showgirl days” as Clint called them. Smile, wave to the cameras, be who they want to see, say what they want you to say, it’s all the same. Sometimes he felt like he’d never made it off of that stage.

He watched Grayson and Natasha on the dance floor and could not but admit that they made a very good pair. Supremely graceful and both of them beautiful and dynamic in a way that made him wish he had his sketchbook and pencils.

Wayne sipped at a drink for a few moments, before brightening with an almost ridiculous grin and waving across the room, making gestures for whoever it was to come join them. Steve took a breath and prepared himself for making nice with another stuffed shirt and was surprised when a woman, who couldn’t be older than her early twenties, slipped through the crowd towards them.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” Her tone was polite, but brisk and business-like. It reminded Steve of the way that Pepper spoke to Tony when trying to get him to cooperate for publicity.

Wayne placed a hand on her back (between her shoulder blades, Steve noted, no lower) and gently steered her towards Tony and Pepper. “Miss Potts, I would like you to meet Tamara Fox. She is Lucius’ daughter and Tim’s assistant. Without her, Wayne Enterprises would not run half as smoothly as it does. Tam, this is Virginia Potts, CEO of Stark Industries.”

The young woman’s face melted into an “o” of surprise before she quickly smoothed her features out to a more professional expression, though she wasn’t able to hide her excitement entirely, and extended a hand. “Miss Potts, it is an honor to meet you, I’m a great admirer of yours.”

Pepper smiled back and shook her hand. “I’m glad to hear that Wayne Enterprises is not completely devoid of female leadership.”

Miss Fox blushed. “I wouldn’t say I’m leadership, I just assist Tim. Mr. Drake-Wayne. That’s all.” Steve couldn’t help but smile at her stumble, clearly the Waynes were not the kind of employers who demanded distance from their employees.

“Nonsense!” Wayne said cheerfully. “He’d be lost without you. And you do excellent work with the company!” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone. “Don’t tell your father I told you, but you’re being considered for the assistant directorship of HR.”

Naturally, that was when the gunshots started, the sounds of high-caliber automatics and sharp shouts from outside shattering the (relative) peace of the Gotham night, drowning out the distant sirens and muted grumble of traffic. Brief flashes of light lanced through the intricate stained-glass windows, throwing light-cats of different colors across the pristine white table-clothes.

Steve was, in a disconnected way, impressed with how everyone responded. Usually, if something went wrong like that, there was screaming and running and general panic and mayhem. Here, everyone just froze for a fraction of a second before ducking for the nearest cover. For one frantic moment the air was filled with the crash of china and silver, the thuds of antique, carved wood colliding with marble and a few yelps and screams.

He found himself sharing a newly overturned table with Bruce Wayne, Pepper crushed in-between them where he'd swept her automatically. Tony scurried over to join them, a mildly panicked look on his face. Steve grimaced with the realization that Tony's suit was in the limo with Happy and that made him a civilian in need of protecting rather than an ally in the potential conflict.

Sometimes he missed the war. There were civilians, yes, but usually he didn’t have to worry about protecting a roomful of them with such limited backup. He missed the Commandos, he missed Peggy, he missed Bucky. Hell, he almost missed _HYDRA_.

He peeked around the table, assessing the rest of the room. Almost none of the tables were still upright and fancy finger foods were spilled all across the floor and trampled under polished dress shoes and designer heels, mixed into mounds of used-to-be-white fabric. Grayson and Natasha were behind a pillar across the room, both of them shielding the other's back and between them they had a vantage point on nearly the entire room, which had to be design on Natasha’s part.

The handful of hired security personnel had drawn weapons and were securing the entrances, prepared for the situation outside to make its way inside. Most of them seemed like former military, all professional and calm.

Wayne pulled himself to his knees and joined Steve in looking over the table, his eyes desperately covered the room from end to end before he tried to get to his feet and Pepper pulled him back down, her manicured nails digging into the arm of his suit.

"What are you doing!" She hissed at him and he pried himself free.

“Just looking.” Wayne said calmly, almost airily, as if what had moments ago been a high society event hadn’t hunkered down for war in less than thirty seconds.

Pepper gave him a disbelieving look over Steve’s arm, which was still hovering over her protectively, “Could you maybe wait until it is safe?” Her voice was steadily rising in pitch and panic. Steve realized that he had never been in a combat situation with her before and he had no idea how she would react. He cursed the oversight and made a note to decide on some procedures with her for if this happened again.

As if to emphasize her words, another hail of gunfire came from outside and one of the windows shattered. Steve’s enhanced hearing only just picked up the thud of the bullets striking the wall behind them. Several women (and a couple of men) screamed. Once more, Wayne attempted to look over the table and this time Steve pushed him down, perhaps a little harder than he necessarily had to but he’d found that the thing that often made it hardest to protect civilians was the civilians themselves. “Don’t be stupid, Mr. Wayne.” He grimaced as another round of gunfire assaulted his ears.

One of the ladies behind the table next to theirs had been struck in the side by a ricochet and was bleeding all over her evening gown, the copper tang bitter in the air.  Miss Fox had a wadded up tablecloth pressed against the wound, the red stark against the fabric. Tony had plastered himself over Pepper’s back so that she was squashed in-between him and the table.

The gunfire and shouting began to die away, mixed with the squealing of tires that signaled at least three departing vehicles.

For several breaths of time, the room was still before people began to move. The security guards had left their cover almost immediately, and even many of the socialites were beginning to stir. Grayson and Natasha were both out and ready, joining them on their side of the room. Nat alert for anything out of place and Grayson walking lightly, ready to move. The man obviously had training of some sort, Steve noted.

Steve turned to Wayne to ask about it but was interrupted by a second window breaking in a shower of colored glass and two figures stumbling in from the street, shards of glass cracking beneath their feet. One was dressed in fairly nondescript black body armor and a tactical mask but the other was much more interesting.

He wore a leather jacket over some sort of armored shirt emblazoned with a red bat-like shape and a red helmet with glowing white eyes reminiscent of the Iron Man suit. He had a Glock in one hand and a large combat knife of a type Steve had never seen before in the other that he was using with great skill to keep his opponent on the defensive.

Steve was beginning to understand what Tony had meant when he said that Gotham had the "weirdos." He’d only read the files on Batman, The Joker, and a handful of the other maniacs but he knew there were many more.

"Red Hood, vigilante and sometime crime lord." Natasha hissed in his ear, covered by the screams of the socialites who seemed far more alarmed by these two men than by the gun battle that had just taken place. Grayson took a small step backwards, falling into a subtle ready stance that Steve wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t already watching the man. He dearly wished for his shield.

Even as Steve stood to his feet to enter the fray, Red Hood gained the upper hand and, with a vicious but professional motion, drew his knife through his opponent’s throat with a squelch and spray of arterial blood that Steve was very familiar with. With a few final jerks, the black-clad man dropped to the floor, dead, and Red Hood straightened up and looked around.

"Freeze!" One of the security guards shouted nervously, pointing his firearm at the intruder with shaking hands. Red Hood barely gave him a glance, taking another step into the center of the room, his boots leaving a broken trail of blood on the polished hardwood behind him.

"Hey, Wayne. Just thought you might like to know." He said, his voice rough but clear and cutting through the chaos. "Your precious little genius got himself snatched by some out-of-towners out front." He staggered a little, reached out and grabbed hold of the table they were behind, no more than two feet from them. He slumped against it and Steve’s serum-enhanced nose caught the scent of blood, mingling with what was already there. Red Hood muttered something that even Steve couldn’t make out, forcing himself upright.

It seemed to be too much for the nervous security guard. He fired and Red Hood lurched with a grunt as the bullet made contact with his torso. And then he collapsed onto the polished floor, a dark stain slowly spreading across his side and another, much more quickly, on the inside of his thigh.


End file.
